


unsportsmanlike conduct

by steebadore



Series: the smut locker [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: But I still know Todd Barney is a dick, Cargo Shorts, I don’t know anything about sports, M/M, MCU Kink Bingo, Steve Is a Good Bro, and clapbacks, no wait steve is a bad bro, snapbacks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-25
Updated: 2018-07-25
Packaged: 2019-06-15 22:53:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15423429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/steebadore/pseuds/steebadore
Summary: “Oh, suck my dick, Barnes,” Steve growls.“Well not with that attitude,” Bucky says primly.





	unsportsmanlike conduct

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this on my lunch break and meant it to be quick and dirty but it turned into...whatever this is.
> 
> this fills square O-3, location: floor sex on my [kink bingo](https://steebadore.tumblr.com/post/175173683585) square.

Bucky hears Steve before he even gets to their floor—seventy year old Gladys next door with her extremely not-supersoldier hearing can probably hear Steve stomping up the stairs to their apartment. So his team lost, then. Bucky sighs deeply and braces himself for what he knows is coming.

All 240 pounds of pouty supersoldier crashes through the door a moment later, his face thunderous and flushed pink, his hair sticking out of his backwards hat like tufts of duckling fuzz. On a normal day, Bucky might even think it was cute. But paired with his godawful cargo shorts and football jersey, Steve looks like every roided out Brooklyn-by-way-of-Jersey bro at their gym. It's not a good look. 

And yet. 

Sigh. _Barnes, you used to be better than this. Remember when you had standards?_

"Don't start," Steve grumbles.

Bucky raises a brow and goes back to making himself a sandwich like a civilized adult. "I didn't say anything."

"You don't have to, I know what you're thinking," he huffs, kicking his shoes off and flinging them across the room like a toddler having a tantrum.

Bucky puts down the knife he'd been using to spread mustard. It's only a butter knife, not even sharp, but he thinks if he throws it with just the right force it could possibly make a dent in Steve's idiot skull. 

"Well I'm sorry your terrible team with that one terrible guy you love didn't get the ball into the strike zone or whatever, but don't take your angry penis feelings out on me," Bucky says. "Or our baseboards, for shit's sake Steven. You better clean off those scuff marks."

Steve just glares from the living room. "First of all, it's not—my penis isn't—Todd Barney is the greatest quarterback of all time! He—"

"Voted for Cheeto Mussolini."

"What? No, he didn't."

"Yes, he did. He admitted it. In public, even. How have you not heard about this?"

"Because I just want to watch the fucking game and have a beer with my friends once a week without it getting ruined like every other fucking thing—"

"So you're okay cheering for a guy who supports that fascist dickweasel as long as it's _fun_ for you?"

"Oh, suck my dick, Barnes," Steve growls.

"Well not with that attitude," Bucky says primly, turning away and taking a bite of his sandwich. "See, this is why I never hang out with you and those guys from the gym, you get all…" he waves his hand around, indicating Steve's current state of Steveness.

Bucky hears Steve take a deep breath to calm himself down from his testosterone tantrum and come into the kitchen. He pauses in the doorway and huffs a breath, and even though Bucky is deliberately ignoring him, he knows Steve is actually looking at him for the first time since he got home. Specifically, he's looking at the yoga pants clinging to every curve of Bucky's ass. Bucky tries not to smirk into his sandwich. Steve is so easy.

"Baby," Steve says sweetly a moment later, crowding close against Bucky's back. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that."

"Yeah?" Bucky asks, deliberately arching his ass back into Steve's pelvis, where he can feel him chubbing up in his—ugh—cargo shorts. "How'd you mean it then?"

"I meant… _please_ suck my dick, baby?" he says into Bucky's neck, rubbing his hand over the curve of Bucky's ass. 

"Not a chance, asshole. You smell like nacho cheese and toxic masculinity," Bucky says, giggling when Steve wraps his arms around his waist and bites at his jaw. "God only knows what your dick tastes like right now."

"Hey, what's that supposed to mean?" Steve asks, pulling back from where he's sucked a mark onto Bucky's neck like some goddamn heathen. And if Bucky didn't know that the serum would take care of it within the hour, he'd definitely shove Steve off. Eventually.

"It means you're so bro-ed out you'd probably jizz axe body spray right now. I know I encouraged you to have regular twenty eight year old guy experiences, but god at what cost." He shudders, but it's definitely due to the mental image he's painted for himself and not because Steve is kneading his ass with his big, meat shovel hands.

Steve huffs. "You know you love how my dick tastes, sweetheart. You told me so just last night. And you look so good on your knees for me, prettiest thing I ever seen."

"Don't you try to sweet talk me, Rogers," Bucky says, elbowing Steve in the ribs and trying to squirm away, which just ends up with them wrestling until they're both in a sweaty pile on the kitchen floor.

Steve rolls on top of him, flattening Bucky into the hardwood and rutting against his hip. "Don't you wanna, baby? Just a little? I'm so hard for you."

Bucky rolls his eyes. "Sure it's not the amazing Todd Barney you've got a hard on for?"

"Nah, fuck that guy," Steve says, smiling down at Bucky with his big dopey blue eyes and that stupid hair sticking out of that stupid hat. Ugh. "Bet he can't suck dick half as good as you."

"Here's an idea: why don't you suck _my_ dick?" 

Steve's hands snake down Bucky's torso to grope at his thus far only only mildly interested dick. "You're not even hard! Come on, I'm the one with the problem here. Let me stick it in you, at least? Promise I'll be quick."

"Oh wow, I am overcome with lust at such a proposition," Bucky deadpans, but his pants are too tight disguise the way his dick twitches with interest. Traitor.

"I can see that," Steve says with a grin, swooping down to press a beer-flavored kiss on Bucky's mouth. 

And here's a secret Bucky will never tell: he loves it. He loves the yeasty smell of Steve's breath and the hint of sour on his tongue. It brings him back seventy years and two lifetimes ago, when they'd been dumb kids sneaking kisses on a fire escape, sloppy and sweet and desperate with no goddamn idea what hell was coming for them. The taste of it makes something ache in his chest, a bittersweet kind of gratitude. 

So yeah, he'll gladly deal with Steve watching football with the bros downstairs, drinking beer and swearing at a television like any other twenty something asshole without the weight of the free world on his shoulders. And he'll even deal with Steve coming home all keyed up like a silverback on steroids, because at least he's coming home to Bucky. But that doesn't mean he has to like it. 

Or admit to it, anyway. 

"You look stupid," he says, knocking the hat off Steve's head and running his hand through his sweaty, tangled hair. He likes it like this, all overgrown and flopping over his forehead, curling sweetly at his nape. It's different from Captain America's neatly parted style, different even from the shaggy mop they'd tried desperately to keep presentable with a rusty pair of his ma's sewing shears back in that shithole in Red Hook. It belongs to this Steve right here on top of him and nobody else. 

"Yeah, but you like it," Steve says with a grin, leaning back to hook his fingers in the waistband of Bucky's yoga pants and peel them down. Bucky lifts his hips and legs to help Steve get them off, proving that he at least uses them for their intended purpose, unlike Steve and whatever cargo pants were made for. Camping? Some extended safari in hell?

"I tolerate it," Bucky corrects. 

Steve digs in one of his eighty seven pockets for a packet of lube—how presumptuous of him—and slicks his fingers. Bucky tenses his stomach and bites his lip to hold in the laugh at the face Steve makes when his fingers encounter smooth silicone instead of skin.

"You asshole! You were wearing a plug this whole time?" He shoves Bucky's legs up roughly, settling down on top of him. "Oh no, don't make me suck your gross dick, Steve," he says in a frankly insulting impression of Bucky's voice. "What a fuckin tease, Barnes. Flaunting yourself in those goddamn obscenities you call pants while you're all stretched and wet for me. Can't believe you," he mumbles against Bucky's neck as he lines himself up. "Unsportsmanlike conduct is what this is. Flag on the field."

"Just put it in me, Rogers, Christ on a bike. I thought you said something about making this quick. I coulda been eating my sandwich this whole time you been running your mouth."

"You coulda been eating my—"

"Jesus Christ Ste—ah!"

***  
"You know, you were a lot less obnoxious about baseball," Bucky says later, when they're panting and sweating on the now slick hardwood floor. 

Steve rolls over, resting his cheek on his folded arms and grins sheepishly. "Can I tell you a secret?" 

Bucky glances at him sideways and nods warily. "Uh huh?"

"I never even liked baseball all that much, Buck," Steve says. "Just liked watching you get all excited about it, cussing up a storm at the radio. You were so cute. DIdn't hurt that I got to sit behind you and stare at your ass while you were catching either."

Bucky huffs. "Been living a lie for seventy years. What else you lied to me about, huh?" He knocks his shoulder into Steve's. "Least I know the real reason why you're into football now. Those pants are way tighter than anything I was wearing in '39."

Steve blushes and Bucky feels a horrible fondness flooding through him, making his heart swell and press against his ribs. "You're an idiot."

"Suck my dick, Barnes."

"Maybe later."

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[Podfic] unsportsmanlike conduct](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15840186) by [quietnight](https://archiveofourown.org/users/quietnight/pseuds/quietnight)




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